Make Me Rich
by perseusandromeda
Summary: Sirius makes a bet when he realizes Lily Evans is starting to use up James's time. Two circumstances, set three years apart and two surprises — Sirius does not see several things coming. JP/LE Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. Or any of these characters. If I did, my name would be JK Rowling.

**A/N: **Written for the lovely **apalapucian** on tumblr, based on a prompt she gave me.

* * *

_1973-74_

The third year boy's dormitories were unnaturally quiet on one particular Friday evening.

Correction: Sirius Black was unnaturally quiet on that particular Friday evening.

He was sitting cross-legged on his four poster bed, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his fingertips. He was staring intently at James with narrowed grey eyes, a calculating look fixed on his features as he thought.

James, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice that he was being watched; he was lounging on his own bed, bouncing a quaffle against the wall next to him. Evidently, his silence signified that he, too, was thinking hard. Normally, Sirius didn't have a clue as to what rolled through James's mind, but today, he was rather certain. _Quite _certain.

And those thoughts were unacceptable. They had to be fixed.

Tomorrow would be Saturday — and according to Remus, there would be a Hogsmeade trip first thing at ten o'clock in the morning. Perfect.

Sirius clasped his hands together, marvelling at his brilliance for a few seconds before he grinned devilishly at James.

"Hey, James? Wanna bet?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm betting five galleons you won't be able to chuck a snowball into Evans's face tomorrow."

"What?"

"Go on, then. Make me rich."

James dropped the quaffle abruptly and stared at incredulously at Sirius. "'Scuse me?"

"What, do you _fancy _Evans?" said Sirius, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No," snapped James. "I _don't _fancy Evans. But I'm _not _going to throw a snowball in her face."

Remus who had been tearing his way through a mountain of chocolate with the help of Peter, looked up suddenly.

"Oooh, Prongs is a pansy," taunted Sirius. "What's Evans going to do, glare at you? Oh, dearie me, I'm so _fwightened_!"

When James said nothing, Sirius laughed. "You're scared! You're scared of Evans!"

James was the competitive type. There was absolutely no way he would back out of this bet now, and Sirius mentally patted himself on the back.

"I am not scared of Evans," said James hotly, hurling a shoe at Sirius. Far too occupied with admiring his own intelligence, Sirius did not react to the sudden attack and yelped with pain as the heel of a boot hit him in the eye.

"I am not scared of Evans," repeated James, ducking as his own footwear came flying back his way. "And I certainly do not fancy her, either. No, I don't fancy her at all, _thank you very much._"

"So the bet's on?" asked Sirius, perhaps more aggressively than he normally would have. His eye hurt a lot, after all.

James nodded, picked up the quaffle again, and resumed his previous sport of bouncing it against the wall.

Sirius crouched behind a pile of snow, shaking the white fluff out of his eyes as he squinted down at the village of Hogsmeade.

It was evening. All four Marauders had spent the day out of the castle, raiding Zonko's and Honeydukes as they always did, and after a quick stop at the Three Broomsticks, they had snuck back up to the grounds and started a snowball fight — as they always did.

Usually, Sirius enjoyed the classic snowball fight. It gave him a good excuse to pummel James, anyway. But now, he was freezing; his cheeks stung, his fingers were stiff, his clothes were wet, and most importantly, his leg kept on falling asleep. He shook it irritably, teeth chattering.

The reason why he had not hightailed to the warmth of the castle was, in fact, because of a very annoying redhead who went underneath the ghastly name of Lily Evans. Always the source of his problems, one way or another.

Right now, he would have gladly strangled her, if only he had the energy. She had, according to Peter, arrived at Hogsmeade at precisely midday, and Sirius's own watch told him that it was nearly half-past six in the evening. What sort of sodding bird spent nearly seven hours in Hogsmeade?

A completely barmy sort, apparently.

Rolling a snowball with his hands, Sirius glanced back at the cosy yellow lights of the village again. He had seen Evans, surrounding by the group of girls — which most likely had the misfortune of being her friends — walk in and out of shops, but she had not headed once back up the road to Hogwarts.

Breathing in the cold air, he turned back towards the snowball fight in which all four Marauders were battling, arm raised as he sought out a suitable target. Sirius could see James kneeling behind the wall of snow he had built, but the tosser was too far away; Sirius wasn't even sure if his snowball would make it.

Shuffling to the left, he spotted a patch of brown hair sticking out from the snow — _Moony. _Lovely.

He threw with as much force as he could, and to his delight, the ball of snow landed exactly on-target. Sirius bit back a laugh as Remus leapt to his feet and began to angrily pelt James with snowballs of his own.

Crouching back down again, Sirius shivered. He hitched his scarf up, as to cover up his nose, and glared at Hogsmeade. It was dark now, and it had only began to snow harder, and Evans had not yet appeared —

Sirius froze. Not in the literal sense.

He was certain that someone was walking towards them, trekking up the road…but it might not be her…

It was! It was her, the one and only Lily Evans, making her way uphill, alone and on foot. The setting glow of the sun was behind her. Her flaming hair looked stunning in the winter wind.

Despite the protests of his aching joints, Sirius jumped to his feet and promptly turned towards James, who was in the act of shoving a handful of snow down the back of Remus's shirt.

"Oi, Prongs!" bellowed Sirius. "Red alert!"

They both looked up at him in confusion. Peter, who was expertly building a barricade out of snow and twigs, paid him no mind.

"What?" said Remus, wriggling out of James' hands with a confused look. "What is 'red alert' supposed to mean?"

"Evans!" cried Sirius, waving his arms above his head. He hopped up and down excitedly, but now both James and Remus were gawking at him as though he had finally lost his marbles.

Plowing through the snow, he hauled James to his feet. Evans was now walking very close to them, and he called out to her, "Hey, Evans!"

She stopped, narrowing her eyes at him. "What do you want, Black?"

Snatching a freshly made snowball out of Peter's hand, Sirius dunked it into James' empty one and roughly pushed him towards the general direction of Lily.

He'd see now…

But unlike Sirius was expecting him to, James did not immediately shove the ball of snow into her face. In fact, he simply said something to the smaller, redheaded girl, and her confused look was replaced by a small smile. Evans laughed — a sickeningly sweet sound, and Sirius made a mental note to clean out his ears later.

James said something again, and she laughed once more before smiling at him and continuing her walk back up to the castle.

Sirius watched her go. Then he stared at the snowball, still intact, in James' palm.

And then, he realized. And they were doomed. Their lives were officially over.

James Potter fancied a girl.

"Er…Padfoot?"

Sirius did not know how to react. Half of him felt like rolling on the ground in a fit of hysterical laughter, but the other half wanted to howl at the nearest streetlight in a perfection imitation of Moony during the full moon.

"Padfoot, is something wrong?"

He blinked at the voice; it was Peter, looking up at him with a rather concerned look on his face. Sirius nodded absently, before taking a deep breath. He pressed a finger to his temple, and closed his eyes.

"Moony?"

"…yeah?"

"Would you punch Prongs for me, please?"

"You want me to punch James?"

"Yes."

"And why should I punch him?"

Sirius snapped his eyes open. "Because _this _booby —" he gestured wildly to James,"— is madly in love with Lily Evans!"

"I am _not _madly in love with Lily Evans, you tosspot!"

"Then why the bloody hell didn't you throw the snowball?"

James was about to reply, but Sirius had already caught sight of the pinkish tinge in his cheeks.

"Prongs, you can't — you can't possibly —"

"What's it to you if I fancy Evans? It's none of your business, Padfoot."

Sirius felt like tearing at his hair. "Because she's _Lily Evans_! She's — she's friends with _Snivellus_!"

"I think Sirius is jealous," said Peter in a stage whisper. Remus nodded his agreement.

"_Traîtres_!" said Sirius, jabbing a finger at all three of them. "Traitors, the lot of you! And _you _Prongs, you're a complete idiot! Evans, of all the bloody birds in Scotland, and you go for Lily Evans?"

"What's wrong with —"

"Everything!"

"Padfoot —" began Remus.

"_Fraterniser avec l'ennemi_!"

"Sirius," said Remus, "Leave James alone. He isn't asking for her hand in marriage, he hasn't even asked her out for a date, for Merlin's sake! Just, stop being such a drama queen — he can fancy anyone he wants." He sighed. "But before you start skinning him alive, let's get back to the dormitory, yeah? I'm freezing."

Clamping his mouth shut, Sirius had no other choice than to nod.

The four boys walked all the way to Gryffindor Tower in silence, and Sirius made sure to give Evans the stink eye when he passed her.

* * *

_1976-77_

Sirius tucked the letter away into his pocket, but kept the photograph in his hand. A small girl with bright, bubblegum-pink hair was grinning widely up at the camera, and as Sirius watched, her nose morphed into a dog's snout and back again. He grinned back at her, before sending his owl off towards a vacated perch in the corner of the Owlery.

This Christmas, he hadn't been able to visit Andromeda; the war going on outside the Hogwarts walls was steadily growing worse and worse, and Dumbledore had cancelled the usual train which took them home for the holidays. Instead, Sirius had exchanged letters and gifts with his cousin and her family — Ted, her husband, and Nymphadora, her daughter.

Ah, what a shame he wasn't a Metamorphmagus, thought Sirius, as he flipped the photograph over in his hands. He could definitely do with a thinner nose.

He glanced out of the window. It was snowing, and normally, on a weekend like this, there would be a Hogsmeade trip, but this year, there were no Hogsmeade trips. Dumbledore, according to Remus, was thinking it far too risky to send students out of the castle at all.

As he made his way out of the Owlery, he dwindled through the corridors, descending towards the general direction of the kitchens. The castle was silent. All the students seemed to have disappeared.

Sirius began to climb down a staircase which he hoped would carry him towards the Hufflepuff common room, but spotting the green hat of Peeves bobbing his way, Sirius immediately switched staircases. He was in a far too good mood to deal with the poltergeist. Sirius found himself being drifted off to a small corridor overlooking the entrance of the Great Hall. Not quite remembering where it led, he leaned against the railing, watching over the empty section of the castle below him.

He didn't hear it at first, but when he did, it took Sirius a few moments to identify the sound — laughter. Confused, he craned his neck, but the corridor remained empty. Sirius frowned. The occupants of the portraits around him were are sleeping, so at least they weren't the ones causing all the noise…

Oh.

Ah.

Well.

_Sneaking out, I see, _thought Sirius, with a small burst of pride as Lily Evans, covered in snow, came walking into sight. James followed her, shaking snow out of his messy black hair. They were both laughing uncontrollably.

"Poor Filch!" said Lily, hiding her smile behind her gloved hand. "He never even saw that coming. He's never stood a chance against all you four, has he?"

Sabotaging old Filch — that was really Marauder-level business. But then again, reasoned Sirius, Lily hung around with them all so often now that they practically counted her as one.

Correction: Lily hung around with Prongs. Maybe Remus occasionally, but it was usually to discuss Prefect duties more often than not.

Sirius was slightly confused as to why James hadn't snogged her already. Truly, he didn't believe any of James' claims — he didn't believe that he had gotten 'over' her. Spotting a large bunch of mistletoe hanging from a chandelier above them, Sirius smirked. Maybe, just _maybe_…

"Well, Filch isn't exactly the brightest candle in the castle, Evans."

"I wonder what's it with the cat, Mrs. Norris? Marlene told me that that horrid furball's been around even when her oldest brother attended Hogwarts."

"You never know, Evans. Maybe Mrs. Norris was some sour old witch —"

"— and somebody grew fed up with her and Transfigured her into a cat?"

"Exactly."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It does, actually," said James, stamping his boots on the stone floor. White flakes of snow scattered all around him. "Filch's a Squib. He's probably unable to transform Mrs. Norris back into her human form, so he cherishes her as a cat."

"'Cherishes'?" repeated Lily, pulling a face. "Don't say it like _that._"

"Well, I think Mrs. Norris is called 'Mrs.' for a reason, Ginger."

"Filch's name is Filch, not Norris."

"Maybe she kept her maiden name."

"True."

Sirius could see them both clearly now. Lily was brushing the snow off her jacket, while James was walking right behind her, his hands behind his back. Neither of them noticed Sirius watching them.

"So, Evans, don't get me off track. I was going to say that you're —"

"— absolutely amazing and beautiful?"

"— a foul, obvious and disgusting cheater at snowball fights."

"Sounds about right."

"I'm always right."

"Really, though? Foul, obvious and disgusting? Harsh, Potter."

"You'd have shamed Sirius, Evans, and that's saying something."

"How _do _you cheat in snowball fights?"

"I don't know, — maybe you'd like to tell me?"

At this point, Sirius had to lean over the railing to see them properly. James and Lily were standing close, and as he watched, Lily reached up and playfully mussed up his hair, making the dark, thick locks even more untidy.

Sirius rested his chin on the palm of his hand, watching the two from above like some sort of guardian angel. It was almost classical, just like in those Muggle films Lily showed him — any moment now, they would lean in close, and _snog_…

Well, at least, Lily looked like she wanted to be snogged. James, however, was grinning down at her, his hands still behind his back.

Straining to see them better, Sirius leaned even more forward, and he watched as their faces moved closer and closer and closer together, and then —

_WHACK._

That was not what Sirius was expecting.

Apparently, that was not what Lily was expecting, either.

She stumbled back, shrieking, and James roared with laughter. Sirius however, was recovering from a momentary lapse of terror; he had nearly toppled over the side of the balcony from sheer surprise.

Steadying himself with the help of a nearby portrait frame, Sirius looked down at the scene below him, stunned.

Lily was glaring at James as she furiously wiped snow off her face, while he was choking on his own laughter, nearly doubling over as he looked at her expression. James' hands had appeared now, and Sirius glanced at the water on them, at the snow on Lily's face, at the snoring witch wheezing in the painting next to him, and put the pieces together.

But then, that didn't mean —

Oh.

_Oh._

He didn't —

He did.

Sirius was confusedly astonished. Gaping at James, he resisted the urge to throttle him. The perfect snogging opportunity, and his idiot of a friend let it slip by. Perfect.

At least, Lily didn't look angry. By this time, she was laughing as well, and gave James a shove.

"You dirty cheater!" Sirius heard her giggle. "I am _so _getting you back for that next time."

"You wouldn't, Evans," said James dramatically. "You love me too much."

"Wanna bet five galleons?"

"Go on, then. Make me rich."

And quite suddenly, Sirius was whisked back three years ago, away into a memory, and his grey eyes snapped to the nearest window, where the warm yellow lights of Hogsmeade twinkled at him in the distance.

Slowly, he walked backwards out of the small corridor, back to the staircases, in an almost sluggish manner. This time, he did not resume his stroll down to the kitchens, but changed course, heading for Gryffindor Tower instead.

He owed somebody five galleons.


End file.
